


Discipline

by Ultradiplr



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, College AU, Dom/sub, F/M, No Age Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Reader-Insert, Size Difference, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, alcohol mention, discussion of safe words, gender neutral reader, professor de kuiper, slight slut shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultradiplr/pseuds/Ultradiplr
Summary: Professor de Kuiper has struck a deal with you, you clean up the mess you made of his office with your stupid “prank”, and he won’t file administrative action to have you kicked out and arrested. Of course, you’re not just going to be cleaning his office.
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 168





	Discipline

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr (ultradiplr.tumblr.com) in 2019. Born purely out of the idea that I, a known dumbass, would not be smart enough to be in a class taught by Sigma, so I came up with a contrived reason to be able to fuck him. Enjoy.

Siebren looked you up and down as you stood outside his office, the lone soul in the empty building beside him, probably the only student on campus for the holiday, awfully relaxed and chipper for the time of day and the reason you were there. Far cry from the bumbling, intoxicated thing he had caught in his office the night before, you stood confidently in some plain shorts and a letterman’s jacket. You smiled up at him in a way that annoyed him, undeservedly smug about the whole situation. Yes, you had gotten off of being expelled, but he wasn’t planning on making the trade off easy for you. You had destroyed his office after all.

He walked past you and opened his office, sighing when he saw the mess that it had become. Covered in sticky notes, silly string, toilet paper, broken knickknacks, some strange multi color goo and reeking of cheap beer, he felt a headache spring from just the memory of the night before. 

Stumbling upon you and your friends reeking havoc in his office, and only just barely catching you when you tried escaping out of his window. Oh how you cried for the friends that swiftly abandoned you, and how you begged for forgiveness when you found out that no, this was not Dr. Gorlding’s office, and that yes, he had full intentions of taking administrative actions against you anyway. Honestly though, how could you possibly mistake an office you’d never been in as your art history professor’s?

Standing in the doorway to his office and looking at the damage in the rising light of the early morning, he almost wished he had just taken you to the security office like he had planned, but alas, he caved when you had promised that you’d do anything not to be turned in. Emphasizing the word anything with a cheeky feel up the side of his leg. 

Anything. The word itched in the back of his mind as he felt your small hand on his inner thigh, the barest smell of your chap stick mixing with the smell of fruity alcohol on your lips, the way your eyes fluttered up at him, and that damned smile you gave when you saw his flustered reaction. It was infuriating. It was alluring. It was… it was a long time since he’d been propositioned like that in any way.

Had you been one of his students, he would have been livid, disgusted, absolutely disrespected, but you weren’t. You were some college slut who just happened to fumble your way into a precarious situation, and was willing enough to fuck a stranger, a random professor even, to not get kicked out. The proposition itself could land anyone stupid enough to try expelled, and yet here you where. And yet here he was.

He wanted to say that it didn’t persuade him. He wanted to say he was too old, too mature, too dignified to be caving in to the manipulations of a student like that, and yet here he was letting you in after him and locking the door behind you. He felt like a pervert, a creep, a lecher. Anyone with half a brain could see what was going on, and yet he didn’t care because it’d been so long and he needed this. He needed you. 

You stood in the center of his office, much too smug for his liking. This was supposed to be a punishment, a trade off, and here you were acting like you’ve just got away with murder. Bratty thing you were, weren’t you? He had asked you to come and clean your mess but seeing your expression you knew he meant differently. Of course you were right but he was assured you weren’t ready for what he had in store for you…

He stepped over to you, looming over your much shorter build, back straight with one hand behind his back as his other took your chin in his fingers, fixing you a credulous stare, “You think i’m going to fuck you and let you off, don’t you?” His tone was as serious as he could make it, getting immense pleasure in seeing the smugness in your expression drop.

He scoffed, thumb playing slightly at your bottom lip, turned down a little with your slightly confused expression. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”He asked and chuckled when your face darkened with a blush and you looked off to the side, of course you had.

He let your head go, and stepped around you, walking over to his desk. He brushed a pile of toilet paper off his chair and sat down. You were trying not to look at him, face red with embarrassment and hands fidgeting in the pockets of your letterman. He had to admit, that was pretty cute. When was the last time he ever made anyone nervous like that? A long while ago.

“Come here.” He said sternly and you hesitated just a bit, stepping around his desk to stand in front of him, the back of your thighs touching the hard mahogany desk behind you.

He placed his hands on your hips, smirking when he felt that you wore no underwear under your shorts.One hand rubbed circles into your hips with it’s thumb, while the other lowered to the bare skin of your thigh as he looked slightly down at you, height a little more even now. 

“Have you ever heard the term, corporal punishment?” He asked gingerly, watching your face morph into wide eyes and a smirk threatening to cross your face. That was interesting.

You nodded slightly, before receiving a stinging slap to your thighs. It was light, more sound than pain, but enough to make you yelp and bark out a “Yes, professor.” You cheeks reddened and he couldn’t stop the smile that stretched on his face.

“Goed.” His hand soothed over the place his slapped and you gulped, “I think it’s in order that you receive some discipline for your unbecoming behavior, yes?”

He was asking permission, this was a lot, a lot to ask of a stranger to indulge him with. But it’d been so long, he’d been so desperate, so needy, and he hoped the curious look you gave him was your interest in helping him.

“Y-yes, professor.” The little quiver in your voice shot a shiver of desire through him. You bite your lip and fluttered your eyes, cute and sexy, god he needed you now.

“Red means stop, green means go, yellow means slow down, you understand?” His heart was beginning to race, this was happening.

His fingers flexed in your hip and the skin of your thigh as you nodded with a “yes professor”, and he couldn’t stop himself from capturing your lips. Hungrily devouring the whimpers that escaped you as his hands roughly pulled your shorts down. A small reward for being cooperative so far, but you’d have to endure a little more for him to forgive you wrecking his office.

When he pulled back he breathlessly chuckled at the blissed expression on your face, not so smug now. A little forcefully he turned you around and bent you over the desk, groaning inwardly at the sight of your bare legs hanging off the side of the desk, the tips of your toes just scraping the floor. Images of marking those cute legs flooded his brain as he ran his hands along them, squeezing the supple flesh of your ass. You moaned and clawed at the other edge as he played with the soft mounds, kneading them in his large hands, god why the hell were you so small?

“Five on both should suffice for now, and then you’ll get started on the room.” You looked back at him, face red and eyes half lidded, confused. He squeezed your left cheek firmly before letting it go, “Don’t think you’re off the hook on cleaning.” he said smugly and you groaned.

He tutted, and smacked your ass lightly, “Don’t whine, that was the original deal.” 

He started off with a relatively minor, soft slap to your right cheek, which still left quite a sting if he was going off of the slight hiss that escaped your mouth. He smoothed it over, before doing the same to the other side, “One.” He said calmly, eyes watching you like a hawk for any signs of distress. You squirmed but other than that you didn’t make to stop him. A quick succession of slaps followed, “Two.” “Three.” “Four.” Each time he smoothed them over, admiring the soft redness that was blossoming under his touch. 

By the last two he could feel you twitching, a wave of lust swelling at seeing the wetness between your thighs as he kneaded the slightly reddened flesh. His fingers slipped under the back of your letterman’s jacket slightly, rubbing softly into your lower back muscles. He leaned over and kissed the back of your neck. 

“You did very well, mijn beste, very, very good.” He whispered into your ear and he smiled when you whined needily. You liked to be praised, how cute.

He helped you backwards onto your feet, turning you back around as he sat back down, admiring the small smile and deep blush and the way your eyes glistened in unspilled tears. Beautiful.

“Start with the toilet paper, and wipe up that weird goo, alright?” He asked and you nodded, a small “yes professor.” before you stepped away and went to do your business.

He sat back and watched as you picked up arms full of loose paper, admiring the way you walked around in nothing but your jacket, naked from the waist down and beginning to sport red hand prints on your ass. The imagery delicious but not enough to satisfy his hunger, but a good appetizer nonetheless. 

He pawed the erection in his pants as he lazily watched you, legs shivering every once in a while as you bent down to grab something, your hand going over yourself to perhaps feel the lingering sting, and the way you non to subtly rubbed your legs together before catching his eye and stopping. Smart little thing, if only you’d been that smart last night.

He called you over once you’d gathered all of it up, leaving it in a pile near the door. You walked over and bit your lip when you noticed his obviously tenting pants. He smiled and took your hips in his hands again, helping you up onto his desk. You hissed when your sore bottom made contact with the cool wood, but he just laid you back and pulled your hips off the table, legs hanging again only this time you were facing up. 

“Mooi ding.” He said, admiring the view before him as he sat between your legs, looking over you like a feast on his desk. He parted your legs, chuckling darkly at the wet mess that was your cunt, “Enjoying your punishment?” He asked as his head rested on your inner thigh as his hands ran up and down your legs.

“Y-yes, professor.” You sounded so needy it made his cock jump.

“Well you shouldn’t be, you’re being disciplined, you need to learn that there are consequences for your actions.” he said with a serious tone and you visibly shivered.

He smiled, placing an open mouth kiss on your inner thigh before suckling and biting in the same spot. You moaned and arched your back as he began leaving hickies around your thighs, a new batch of slick dripping out of you. He groaned at the sight. Fuck. It was taking all that he had not to devour you right now, cunt looking so delicious, but he steadied himself. In time. In time.

He sat back and watched you quiver as his hands trailed up from your shins and ghosted over the markings he left. One hand stayed on one thigh, holding your leg open for him, as the other ghosted lightly over you soaked core. You canted at the scarce contact, trying to close your legs, before receiving a quick whack on the thigh. You whimpered and he laughed.

“No moving, kleintje.” He ordered softly, hand petting the sting away as you nodded up at the ceiling.

“Yes, professor.” you said breathlessly. He sat up a little to look at you face, cock throbbing at the blissed out expression on it, the deep red, the glazed eyes, god, he was going to enjoy wrecking you.

He smiled and let his hand rest over your mound, biting his lip as he slowly trailed down over your slit and he felt you flex your muscles under his grip, fighting to hold your legs open. So good for him. His breathing became unleveled as he finally slipped into your wetness, a moan erupting from you easily as he applied some pressure onto your aching core. He prodded your entrance a little, marveling at you exerting yourself to stay still. He placed a kiss on the junction of your thigh and hip, eyes gleaming when he caught the way your hand moved to grab his head, only to return to your side instantly. No moving.

Two fingers slowly entered you, and he couldn’t hold back his soft moan as he watched it go, your smooth insides like silk and the pressure heavenly. You whined loudly, back arching ever so slightly, leg muscles flexing. His eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest as he began to slowly pump into you. You breathed erratically, your hands tight fists at your side. He angled his fingers slightly and a strangled cry erupting from your lips as he grazed his fingers in that special place inside you.

“You tell me if you’re about to cum.” He demanded, his hot breath touching your core.

You nodded rapidly before crying out a shaky “Yes. professor.”

With that he finally placed his lips on you, not caring to go steady now as he ate you out greedily. Your cries echoed through his office, as you sang his praises, starting to shake even more. He could feel his pants getting wetter, but he didn’t care if he came from this alone, he felt like a starved man finally being allowed to eat again. He drank you up, nipping and sucking on you without abandon and you were an absolute mess on his desk. You were so sweet on his tongue, so silky, so delicious. What god had he pleased to have you delivered right onto his lap when he found you last night?

True to your word you cried a broken, “Now.” and he stopped immediately, eyes a little unfocused as he pulled himself away from you instantly. Removing his touch completely.

You cried out in disbelief and frustration, lifting yourself a little as your hips rolled and your toes curled, left teetering so suddenly. You looked down at him for the first time since you laid back, your face covered in tears, hot and red and sweaty, and furious at the ruined orgasm. He smiled at you, letting out a breathless laugh.

“My office still isn’t clean.” He said smugly and you let out a strangled wail as you laid back, hands coming up to your face.

He let you rest as he wiped his face of your juices, the memory of it’s taste getting locked away in his mind for another day. When he saw your breathing even and your legs stop shaking he helped you back up, biting his lip at the wobble you did as you steadied yourself on your legs. 

He sat back in his seat and watched you wobble around the room, picking up scattered sticky notes and broken things, feeling a new rush of lust every time you paused in what you were doing to breath. Left teetering, he was sure any small contact was driving you up the wall. His hand squeezed his leaking hard on, a groan erupting from his chest as he watched the small wet spot grow slightly at the pressure. He was going to explode if he kept going at this pace.

You were slower this time cleaning, but he couldn’t fault you on that, as your mind and body were preoccupied with other things. But when you finished, placing the new trash with the pile of toilet paper by the door, he didn’t miss the eager way you came back to him. 

“On your knees.” He said the moment you stepped in front of him and he was surprised at the speed in which you obeyed.

“Eager are we?” He chided coolly, though his nerves were on edge as he watched the way your eyes followed his fingers hungrily as he began unbuckling himself.

He popped free from his confines, and he hissed at the feeling of cool air on his wet cock. You on the other hand, gasped and drooled at the sight of him, which fed his ego something fierce. He jerked himself a little, moving around the already present wetness to the rest of his aching dick.

“Hands up.” He patted his thigh with his free hand as the other worked himself. 

Your hands trailed up his legs and rested where he said, flexing your fingers slightly at the fabric. He nodded, “Pat my thighs for me to stop, alright?”

“Yes, professor.” Those words where going to be branded into his mind for the next few weeks, especially the way you said it this time, eager and dripping with lust, fuck he was going to miss you.

His free hand settled on your head as his other pointed his leaking tip toward you, you opened obediently, and he slipped his cock into your hot mouth slowly. You hummed, eyes fluttering a little as he slowly fed you inch by inch. It was his turn to be a little vocal now, moaning as he watched himself slip into your throat. Christ, how many times have you done this that he could get half way down without you choking? Had this been under different circumstances he’d be singing your praises by knowing why you were here it made a strange sort of jealousy flare in his gut. He pushed your head down a little roughly an inch and you gagged a little, opening your eyes to look at him, pupils blown wide, fuck, that image will be burned into his mind for the rest of his life.

Your hands stayed firmly flat against his thigh as he hilted inside of your hot mouth, not ashamed to whimper a little every time you swallowed around him. He pet your hair as he calms his nerves, already teetering on the edge of a climax. It’d been too long indeed.

He slowly circled his hips to shallowly grind into your throat, picking up his pace a little as you moaned around him. Slowly he built to face fucking you hard, fist tight in your scalp as other hand keep the hair out of your face. You felt like heaven and a temptation all in one, his nerves were on fire and his hands were shaking, he wanted to empty down your throat so badly, but the way you where gagging and moaning around his cock told him, you’d probably wanted that, and well… his office was still dirty. He used your mouth until he felt himself right on the edge and pulled out, holding himself tight. 

Your fingers dug into his thighs as he pulled from you, a thick string of drool keeping his cock and your lips connected. You looked at him deliriously, had you almost gotten off from this alone? His mind went blank at the thought.

“Finish up.” He barked a little harshly, and you instantly got to your feet, tripping a little as you scrambled to finish cleaning.

He tried to calm himself but he was too on edge, damn, he wasn’t young anymore, he couldn’t be holding off for so long. What did he want to do, give himself a stroke? He rubbed his eyes and settled back. Breath. It was almost over. Breath. He ran his hands through his graying hair and looked at you, smiling as you fumbled about, hurriedly, excitedly, eagerly, cleaning up the remaining silly string. He took this time to strip his pants off, leaving behind his shoes and socks, and standing once you were finished.

“Desk.” Was all he said and you threw yourself over it, ass in the air like a bitch in heat.

He laughed, actually laughed, and took your hips in his hands. Your legs where beautiful, thighs hand marks and bite marks, though now it was fading just a tad. His heart fluttered at the idea of maybe doing the same to more of you but he pushed that thought away, this interaction was nothing but a chance encounter, the next time he might see you could be… well it could be at the graduation, whenever that was for you. His heart clenched at the idea. Not seeing you until then. Not touching you ever again. That was…

He shook his head and focused on the now, the way you quivered under his touch, your soft mewling and begging and whimpering, the way you tried to grind back on him. He took himself in hand and rubbed along your fold to lubricate himself. You groaned, the sound seemingly dragged out from your chest, and you gripped tightly at the edge of the desk. He bit his lip, whimpering just the bit at the feeling of him sliding against you. He planted his feet hard against the ground, and in one hard thrust, buried himself balls deep into you.

You half cried, half screamed and instantly went rigid, and he did pretty much the same, hunching over you as he was wracked by shivers at the sudden smooth and hot pressure. He covered you completely, head fitting easily beside your own. He was tense as he felt you relax around and underneath him, holding himself together as you adjusted to his size.

“T-thank you.” You whimpered, panting, clenching, begging. He moaned and placed a kiss on your cheek, god, you were going to kill him.

He pulled out slowly, for his sake more than yours if he was going to be honest, before pushing in roughly. Slowly out and hard back in. Pushing a moan and half gibberish expletive out of you every time he hilted again. A hand came up to thread in your hair as his other held tightly to your waist. He bent his head to your back, smiling as he felt the texture of your letterman’s jacket, still on. He tried focusing on his own pleasure, but with every sound of your voice he couldn’t help but focus on you, you stranger, you foreign body, you brat, you- you- You came with a cry before he could finish his thought and he had to stop, his mind going blank as you clenched hard around him and covered his cock with a rush of fluids.

“Fuck.” He barked, hand in your hair pulling your head back to look at him.

“D-don’t.. Stop.. p-please.” You weren’t even looking at him, eyes just basically lolling around your skull. Fucked out of your brain and still begging for more. Oh to be young again.

He needed no more goading, pounding into you at a brutal speed and strength, rocking his solid desk a little in his effort. He wanted you to hurt, to walk around remembering him for days, to remember him the next time you begged another weak willed man to forgive your sins. God he wanted you to be ruined by him. Marked by him. Possessed by him. He kept his eyes shut, burrowing his head in his desk next to your face, getting drunk off the needy sobbing spilling from your lips. He heard the dutch being babbled out of his mouth but couldn’t really feel himself doing it, he could only feel you, your hot cunt milking him for all he’s worth. 

He felt himself teetering, right on the edge, but still he held off for something. He didn’t know. He needed you to say something. Anything. He didn’t know. He moaned pathetically, angling his hips, trying to get deeper, and you cried loudly.

“I-in me.” And no sooner had you begged he pinned you down with his body and released inside you with a loud groan.

His vision went blank and his hearing became muffled as he felt his balls tighten and his cum spill into you. The relief was immediate and immense, and the muscles in his belly flexed madly. He was vaguely aware of your orgasm too, milking every last drop. His body felt warm, his mind felt empty, and for some reason he was overcome by intense emotion.

He wasn’t aware he was crying until your voice broke through the haze in his mind and he looked up to see you had turned your face to look at him, concerned.

“Are you alright?” Your voice was full of bliss, it was calm, it was… warm..

He knitted his brows, “Are you?” he avoided, because he didn’t really know.

“Yes.” you said simply.

He stayed like that on you until he felt the feeling in his legs again, then gingerly peeled himself off you and eased himself out of you, humming at the sight of both of your releases spilling out after him. 

After he got you cleaned up, and cleaned himself up, he helped you pack the collected trash into a big garbage bag and walked with you down the dumpster behind the building. The sound of the bag hitting the empty metal bin made it real that this happened, and that now it was over. He stood awkwardly as you turned to him with a smile, he really didn’t know what to do now. You seemed the same as you shifted from one foot to the other, scratching the back of your head.

He figured it would probably be best to just part ways but before he could step away you flung you hand up in a hand shake,“The name’s Y/N.” 

He smiled and took your hand, “Siebren.”

“Do you maybe… want to grab… lunch?” You asked and his smile widened.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
